A SHORT STORY.

Pelorus Guardian and Miners' Advocate., Volume 29, Issue 44, 8 June 1917, Page 2

A SHORT STORY.

By P. Morton Howard,

WHEN DORTHY DROVE A BREAD CART.

Private Leonard Gaskett, home on leave for a few days, rather thought he was going to And the little town very dull —until ho was privileged to witness Dorothy in n 'e act of driving a bread-cart. He first became av. are of her advent in the form of a wild rattling of wheels and clattering of hoofs, and a moment later a baker’s cart swep*. round the corner, balanced itself on one wheel, and then swerved spectacularly, only avoiding a lamppost by a kindly miracle. Private Gaskett at once diagnosed the affair as a runaway. Wherefore he stepped bravely into the centre of the road, and prepared to check the bolting horse. A girl was standing up in the cart, and Gaskett had time to note that she was slim and attractive of feature. The jolting of the equipage had caused her hat to rest rather rakishly over one eye. There was, however, no trace of fear on her face. Indeed, she had the look of one who rather enjoyed the danger she was risking. Private Gaskett immensely admired her pluck as .bo waited to meet the oncoming shock. “Get out of the way !” she screamed at him. But he refused to leave the path of duty. As the pony passed him he flung himaelf at it and brought it to a standstill.

“There you are, missie !” he observed, turning to the girl. “Safe and sound !”

• “I know I am'!” she replied indigbantly. “I was quite safe all the 4ime ! May I ask why you interfered With mo ?’’

“Interfered ? I—l was saving you !’

The girl looked at him as \though fehe stupidity of young men were a (theme on which she could not trust herself to speak calmly. “You might have got hurt !” she declared angrily. “If this is your idea of a joke ”

“Upon my word !’’ he broke out. “I suppose you’ll expect me next to •apologise for stopping your runaway horse !”

“It wasn’t running away !’’ she denied. restoring her hat to tije normal. “I—l always drive like that !’’ “But—but ” he istammered. She frowned loftily at him, refusing to continue the argumnt. It was clear that she was deeply offended by the implied aspersion on her skill in driving.

“I—l’m awfully sorry !” said Gas-, fcett. “Only, really, you know, you looked exactly, like a.runaway !” / She made an impatient, scornful little noise in her throat. Then, ostentatiously dropping the young man out of the visible world, she gave the reins a#shake and drove on. Th6| pony lurched forward, the bread-cart i rattled on, and again its fair driver’s hat flopped to an incongruous angle, j Gaskett stood staring after the | Vehicle. He noted that the pony was urged to travel faster and faster. He saw that the girl drove with enthusiasm rather than skill. The bread-cart somehow managed to stop again right up at the other end of the High Street. Gaskett saw the girl dismount, tie the steed to a post, and then vanish into a shop. Private Gaskett decided that he had learnt enough about reconnoitring to! go along and find out things. He strolled up the street, therefore, and discovered that the pony and cart were tethered outside the baker’s ahop. Private Gaskett thought hard lor a moment or two, and then ' entered the shop. I

Resorting to strategy, he kept quiet and consumed buns. Customers came and went, but still he consumed buns. A plain, thin girl, entrenched behind the counter, watched him suspiciously. Private Gaskett meekly munched, and listened to such scraps of conversation as came to his ears. He learnt that the girl who had been driving the bread-cart was called Dorothy. He learned that she was, oh, awfully willing, and quite a lady, you know, but rather inexperienced.

Private Gaskett had finished the last bun on the dish, and was going to commence on the doughnuts, when Dorothy herself passed through the shop. She drew herself up sharply and stared offendedly at Gaskett.

"I say, about that—-that driving of yours !” he began eagerly. “I mean, you know ” “Yes ; I hope you 1 ’!! be more careful next time !” she responded severely. “You must always look both ways before crossing the road, you know. Any less careful driver than myself might easily have run over you.”

She flicked a glance at the thin damsel, being evidently desirous that that young lady should take note of her. words.

“Some soldiers are so awfully careless !” declared the thin damsel. “Do you remember the time, Dorothy, when you nearly ran into a whole regiment of them at 1 ; :' 'ucton Corner on your round ?'•’ “Well it was the late i -and,” said Dorothy. "It was almost dark at the time. But I’m always much more careful there now. I come round at a walking pace, pretty nearly.” fJbc- picked np a basket, cast a final indignant' glance at -Gaakett, and went out to. the, cart. Gaskett, after humbly paying for his refreshment, hurried out after her. "I say ” he fcngan.

Dorothy swung herself up into the cart without sven looking at him. A moment later the equipage was pur* suing an eccentric course up the street.

"I’ve offended her ! ” mused Gaskett

“She won’t have a word to say to me ! Who’d think a girl with eyes like hers could he so hard on a chap ! Dash it all, just my luck to go and offend the prettiest girl I’ve seen since I was big enough to sit up and take notice !”

All that afternoon Private Gaskett was moody and distrait. It was not the effects of unaccustomed buns which disturbed him, but the glowing memory of Dorothy, and he only hadi a week’s leave, and he did not properly know her, and she was angi'y with him, as it was. The Situation was most exasperating. “If only she were to run over me by accident !’’ he sighed. “Now, that would be a bit of luck for me ! She couldn’t help being kind and sympathetic to me then !” He pondered wistfully over the idea. Them suddenly he smacked his knee and disposed himself to deep Ihi.ugbt.

As a result he made his way to Dilmington Corner —a lonely bend in the road some two miles from the little town. Choosing a strategic position- which allowed him to watch the highway in both directions, he lit his pipe and waited. It was a long vigil. Already the dusk was imminent, when at last he saw Dorothy’s hat hurtling along the lanes.

Three minutes later she swept round the corner, guiding her steed more by chance than by the reins. And as the cart rattled and bumped round into the high-road a young soldier managed, in some inexplicable way, to blunder full into its course. Dorothy shrieked, and the pony plunged and slid to a standstill. But too late ! The young soldier was lying picturesquely in the road. A close observer might have noticed that he kept one eye open until Dorothy had leapt to the ground and hurried to his side.

“Oh, are you hurt?” wailed Doro-

Gaskett did not reply. A slight smile involuntarily crept over his features when Dorothy began wildly to pat his hands. It was only when the smile threatened to develop into a grin that he opened his eyes, and faintly murmured “Where am I ?’’ in the appropriate style.

“Oh, I’m so 1 sorry !” said Dorothy. “I—l’m not really a—a good driver, and—and I didn’t think anybody would be round the corner, and I was trying to see how fast I -could take it. Just for the fun of the thing !”

“The fun of the thing !’’ groaned Gaskett reproachfully.

“Let me help you up !” begged Dorothy. “Oh, I do hope there are no bones broken ! I can give you a lift home in the cart. Oh, don’t say you feel any bones grating together, or anything awful like that !’’ Gaskett, assuring her that he was not severely hurt, none the less achieved quite a dramatic fit of faintness as he arose. He allowed her to support his wrist with her arm and help him into the cart. And when he was seated he was graceless enough to sway about helplessly till Dorothy again passed her arm round him and held him secure.

Private Gaskett winced pitifully every time the cart shook, so it was rather a long return homeward. But on the outskirts of the town Gaskett descended slowly from the equipage, and began to limp away towards his home.

“Oh,-, do go and see a doctor !” begged Dorothy. “I know I sha’n’t sleep a wink to-night for worrying about you !”

Very soon after Diggs’ Bakery had opened its shutters next morning, Private Gaskett, leaning leavily on a stick, limped into the shop. Dorothy busily ranging parcels on the counter, gave a litsle gasp at sight of him.

“Thought you’d like to know I was all right,” he mentioned diffidently. “Bit stiff and all that, you know. But nothing serious. I shall be as right as rain again in a few days.” “How did you sleep ?” she asked sympathetically.

“Oh, not so very well ! I went to bed early, of course, and—and rested. But my bruises were just a little bit inclined to ache, and Still, don’t you worry ! It wasn’t your fault a bit ! I mean ”

“And did you enjoy your game of billiards last night ?” unexpectedly asked Dorothy. “My lodgings are next to the Crown Hotel, you know.' “Oh ! ” exclaimed Gaskett limply, dropping his stick to the floor. “Yes, and I heard your voice quite plainly,” she continued. “I heard you calling, across to a friend that you were going to have a game of billiards. And then—well, 1 sat at my window till the Crown Hotel closed. Your bruises couldn’t have been hurting you so very much then,’ she went on cruelly, “because you were showing someone a new dance from one of the revues you had seen in town !”

“Guilty !” announced Gaskett sim-

“Why did you do it ?” she asked, with great severity.’ Private Gaskett made no reply. Pie simply looked at Dorothy. Dorothy’s cheeks began to flame. “It was most deceitful of you !” she declared. “All’s fair in ” he said.

“I’m fearfully angry !” stated the girl, blushing more vividly than ever. “It would serve you right if I really did knock you down and run over yoiV ; some day !” “Why not fix a time for it ?” he asked. “Dilmington Corner, this very afternoon—eh ?”

Dorothy glanced at him, and then, smiling, looked down. “If you're really sorry for your deceitfulness,” she remarked, “you can meet me there, if you like, and—teaoh me how to drive. I think it’s time I learnt, don’t you !” “Well, I’m glad you never learnt before, anyway !” he agreed. “Other-

wise I should never have ’’ The thin damsel came into the shop. “Half a doceu buns, miss, please,”

he requested hurriedly. “To—to take me in a bag.” he added. “I—l'haven't quite got over yesterday yet !’’—“Answers.”